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About Bruges

So we haggle, it’s messy, loud – I’m yellin, she’s cussin. Passersby stare, I don’t give a fuck. Finally settle on somethin fair. She’s smirkin again, like she won. Maybe she did. We head off, and I’m thinkin bout *The Gleaners*, how they scrape by, turn trash to treasure. This? It’s raw, real – not some polished Hollywood crap. I’m buzzin, excited, maybe a lil hungry too – “I ate his liver with fava beans” – but nah, she’s safe from my plate.

Man, the parks here are da bomb too. Mmm, lovely old park, De Schutter, bang in the center. I had a mad chat with a lad there once. Sun, benches, birds chirpin’ – it’s like a live scene from “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” – “I was walking, thinking, feeling…” Freakin’ deep, ya know? Got me feelin’ all poetic n’ stuff.

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